Summer 2001

Remembering my Balashov in the summer of 2001

That moment in time Suspended and serene Sublime, yet surreal A phantom of my mind   A moment in time What was, was not What was not, was Thought it was mine   Leaving to soon Words not voiced Deeds not done A grievous wound   Still reeling, I wonder Could it be, could it have been Or, was it just a bend In the continuum of time   Points to make Lost in time That moment I thought was mine Merely a dream from which to wake   A phantom haunting my mind Teasing me, testing me Was it or was it not? Suspended I am, serene I am not If it is not mine, then why? Is it just to do and die?   What thought is this that drags me down To drown in a sea of deeds undone Thoughts never revealed Words never considered When it is solace that needs to be found

Oh, that moment in time Life was fine, so sublime Why did it end, Did I die and not know And, I thought it was mine   How selfish could I be Thinking only of me Lost in my moment in time My mind’s eye steadfast Myopic at best   Lost am I For words never said Thoughts never revealed A heart exposed Embarrassed for what is And, for what should not be   Still, for that moment in time I am and will forever be lost In search of the unsearchable Seeking the unseekable Never speaking the speakable Vision blurred by that moment in time So sublime, so surreal Frozen in my mind.